When I come over, hide your corny poems,

Hide those melodic musings like dirty magazines,

Under your bed, under your mattress.

Just keep’em away from me!



I told you I’m not too fond of affectionate letters,

(I should have known better!)

You call’em ethereal, I call’em way too sentimental.

Conversations and thoughts orbiting around love

Never felt substantial, never expressed enough.



I thought I would always resent tender lines,

Turns out I was telling myself some lies.

After I saw you on-stage that day in June,

I began to believe every heartfelt tune.



No longer do I shun passionate phrases,

For in-between their spaces, I found the world anew.

Meaning expressed through emotional praises,

Amorous poems, I now cherish too.



I was strictly against romantic rhymes,

Till you read your poems to me.

Now, they no longer seem empty –



All thanks to you,

I’ll write sweet sonnets too.

All thanks to you,

I’ll write sweet sonnets soon!



© Elena Natroshvili

Elena Natroshvili

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